


Leather and Lace

by wintersorchid



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, F/M, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 16:17:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2514068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintersorchid/pseuds/wintersorchid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another redone fic. FemRussia/Germany in that order</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The leather cuffs keeping his hands behind his back were starting to chaff, but Ludwig knew better than to complain. Instead he shifted on his knees, trying to find a more comfortable position. Above him, Anya's hands came down suddenly on his shoulders, making him jump.

"Want to get off your knees?" she whispered, breath playing over his ear even through the blindfold covering it. "You still have to do something for me though."

Straightening up, she walked away and he tried to figure out where she went. Her footsteps came back after a few minutes and she set something in front of him; he assumed it was a chair from the noise and the sound of what he thought was her sitting in it. When his hair was suddenly grabbed and jerked forward, he gasped and tried to get his hands free so he wouldn't fall over.

Of course since he was still tied up, all he did was hurt his wrists and end up with his mouth wide open as Anya pressed him against her thigh, dragging his mouth up to her vagina even as her fingers tightened in his hair. He gasped again and stuck his tongue out to lick her, pleased to feel her shiver at his touch. He was the one doing this, not anyone else. She liked him enough to keep coming back and he wasn't going to complain. Sucking gently, he wondered if he could tease her properly like this, with her grinding on his mouth and chin and nose, her hand pressing him in ever closer.

Maneuvering his broad shoulders so her legs were hanging over them, he sucked harder on her clit. With her legs spread so openly, he was able to dig in better with less strain on his back and neck. Anya moaned, thighs trembling as they tightened around his head, her hand loosening slightly with the pleasure. Without warning, she pushed him back before shoving him over with a foot. He landed heavily on his shoulder, having twisted to avoid falling on his bound arms.

She straddled his face, pulling him into position by his hair and he groaned in pain. His neck was not supposed to be twisted like this but he still didn't say anything.

"Are you going to get me off?" she asked, pulling sharply on his hair to get him focused. "I'm waiting."

So she was. Leaning up, he picked up where he had left off, wanting to hear her moaning again from his actions. He was the one she had picked and stayed with. If only he had his hands! They would pull her own reverently, tenderly, so as not to bruise her fair skin or make her feel like he was daring to try and take control from her. They would slide up her thighs to express how lovely he found her. Fingers would add to her pleasure. They'd rub her shoulders and her feet and anywhere else she felt like having him touch to ease her aches and he would worship her body whenever she wanted, just like he was now.

Even though it was hard on his neck and shoulders to prop himself up like this, he would do it for her and only for her. His body was for her pleasure and she was the one who had taught him about mixing pain and pleasure, and how to surrender completely. It's not something he was completely comfortable with at first, but when she took control from his shoulders and put it on her own, he could feel himself relaxing. For once, no one was looking to him for guidance or demanding protection. He didn't have to make any decisions unless he wanted to think about disobeying for a lash or slap. She had taken his control and hidden it away until she deemed they were done and he was dismissed back into the real life. Here she told him what to do and he did it, and the rewards were wonderful.

Anya's body jerked and she sighed, thighs relaxing from around his head before she stood. He could feel her shaking through the contact of her foot against his shoulder before she moved away.

"Sit up," she ordered and he did so, shoulders slumping as he stared down at where he would see his dick, should his eyes be uncovered. It felt too tight, a result of the teasing and denial of touch. Anya touched the top of his head, her fingers combing his hair.

"I've got a surprise for you," she sang out as she helped him up and over to the bed. This time, he was laid on his chest, hips in the air, a slim finger running over a cheek and down to graze his ballsack before she pinched a thigh lightly.

He was left alone to wonder what she was up to as a drawer to his left opened and shut, opened and rummaged through and shut. A clink and soft hissing sound. The bed dipped down with Anya's weight and he turned his head, blindfolded eyes straining for any hint of light or shape through the thick cloth.

He jumps when her cold, wet fingers press into him and he squirms before she slaps his thigh.

"I didn't tell you to move."

Another finger is pushed in when her two fingers spread him apart, causing him to tremble. They probe deeper and his face turns red. His breathing picks up, his hips buck, she is most likely grinning. Her fingers leave and he wants them back in for the stimulation.

It’s highly embarrassing to be caught in this position, Ludwig reflects as he shifts his weight from one shoulder to the other, feeling Anya behind him as she does…. Something. He’s not entirely sure what’s going on back there.

Really, he should, considering it’s his ass that’s about to be fucked, but just as he turns his head again, she pinches his thigh roughly.

“Ah-ah, Ludovik~ Mind your manners when you’re with me,” she chides, roughly twisting his head back around by the hair until he’s facing forward. His face is hot.

She presses something against him and he knows it’s not the fingers she had deep within him earlier, and knows that despite all the odds against her, she has managed to get her clever hands on some form of sex toy and is currently pushing it slowly into him as he groans loudly.

Of course he knows all about sex and various, er, tools of the trade so to speak, thanks to dirty magazines hidden from his brother under his mattress along with raunchy romance novels that leave his face as scarlet as the setting sun if he reads too much of them. So whatever Anya has in him is clearly something along these lines and somehow attached to her, since her hips are pressed against his rear as she pulls him against her with a low chuckle.

“My my. How you do take it well,” she complimented with a roll of her hips.

He groans again and his hands shake as he clutches at air, desperate not to let her have this control over his noises so easily. Granted, he’s here in this position because he wants to be and really, he wouldn’t change positions because she’s very experienced, able to bring him to the brink over and over before finally pushing him off it.

Even now, in the middle of a war and when he should not be even entertaining the thought of bedding a Russian woman, let alone allowing himself to be bedded, he can’t help but dream of her and finally come crawling back to her bed where she does these wicked things to him.

Her steady, sure strokes create static in his mind and he tries to drown out his traitorous feelings with the feeling of her stiff rod working his insides over and her slim fingers stroking him with her thrusts, over and over until he gasps a mangled form of her name, catching it somewhere between “Russia” and “Anya” and “Please, oh God”, but she seems to understand for she slows down so he can get his breath back and lay down on the bed, the dildo sliding out of him as she pulls back.

His hands are undone and the blindfold rolled up with them as she tosses them into a drawer. Ludwig collapses on the bed, too tired to do much else.

He watches her through half-closed eyes as she cleans and puts the strap on away, struggling to get off the covers and instead under them with her, his exhaustion from the war and sleepless nights and now this finally seeming to crash down on him as she holds his head to her chest, and he clings to her as she quietly sings about a woman named Katyusha who waits for her soldier to return, feeling as if, no matter how old he gets, she will always be this infinite and wise woman, ever hovering, ever smiling at his naivety.


	2. Chapter 2

Ludwig kept his hands flat on his desk, trying his best not to glare at the computer and the small, steady blue light that indicated the web camera was on and recording.

On the screen, Varvara was smiling, smirking really, and Ludwig shuddered as one of her thin, long fingers caressed her face, down her cheek and to her lips, where the long nail, red with glossy polish, dipped between her full lips.

“Now I want you to….. Oh! Get out your new toy!” she giggled, covering her mouth with a hand.

“I… Now?” His mouth went dry and he wanted to slam his computer closed, to run away. Instead, he nodded meekly and moved away from the computer, to take a deep breath and retrieve the box she had left the last time. Bringing it back to the desk, he took another breath in before opening it in front of her. They both knew what was in it.

“Do you have the lube, darling?”

He nodded. She arched an eyebrow.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Good boy. I want you to….” Her finger traced her lips and he watched hungrily.

“I want you to…. Put some lube on your index finger. Good. Now, put it in your ass.”

He complied, propping his leg up on his chair so she could watch what he was doing.

“Do you miss me, darling?” she asked, finger now curling her hair and lip between her teeth. “I wish I was there…. I want you to move your finger… No, slowly…. Just like that.”

There wasn’t much stimulation with just the one slow finger, but he kept going, holding his cock up out of the way, taking care not to pleasure himself too much. He would obey her.

“Perfect. Get the toy.”

Spreading lube one-handed was hard, but he managed and when she told him to, he took out his finger and inserted the toy with a shiver, shuddering again when he tensed his anus and felt the toy rub against his insides.

“Var-”

“No. Not a word.” On the other side, she had shifted from laying on her stomach to balancing on her knees, chest still pressed into the bed, preventing him from seeing much. He thought that just maybe, he might be hearing something, a faint buzzing maybe, that might indicated she would be getting off too.

“Pull it out a little bit… A little more… Now back in. And out…. There we go. Keep going. Ah ah, slower. Do you want off, my pet?”

He nodded eagerly, trying to contain his shakes and shudders to the minimum.

“Rub yourself. Just the base, and take your time.”

“I can’t–” he gasped, hips thrusting and leg falling to the floor as he gripped himself tightly, shaking too hard to stay upright properly.

When he managed to look up, he saw her empty bed and he gave up, pumping himself furiously until his hands were covered in semen. His legs were threatening to give out when he tried to pull the aneros out, and the door to his office slammed open. Before he could even react, Varara shoved him face-first onto the desk, not caring about his computer.

“You fucking came,” she hissed, squeezing his cock and twisting the toy deep inside him.

“I was very clear. We’re we’re playing, you are to obey me and only me.”

“I’m sorry. Mistress, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want your sorry.” His hair was twisted and he could somehow feel the blood sprinting to his cock. “I want you to obey.”

His hair was released and he was pushed to the ground then jerked towards her as she sat down.

“Can’t even listen, what will I do with you?” she complained as she forced him between her legs. All she had thrown on when she stormed over was a short bathrobe which parted easily enough for him to gently hold her thighs apart.

“I won’t do it again,” he murmured into her flesh, remembering not to use his used finger on her perfect flesh as he oh so carefully slipped two fingers inside her. “I love you too much, my dear.”

All things considered, she wasn’t tying him to the bed or demanding the impossible, so he’d accept the punishment. If he had to eat her out until she was satisfied, he’d willingly do it. He’d do it until he was worn out and until he was exhausted, but she stroked her foot up his inner thigh until she could wiggle the aneros with her toes and he groaned into her which in turn made her moan. He ran her tongue over her clit again and again before sucking, pulling the thin hood of skin back away from the tender flesh to suck it directly and help her along her way to orgasm. Those long desirable fingers dug sharply into his scalp and her back arched and oh he loved watching her get off but he had a job to do until she released him with a gasp.

Licking his fingers clean, he started rubbing her calf, waiting eagerly for her to give a new order.

“Good boy,” she praised and he hated hearing that from anyone but her but when she knelt down to kiss and caress his face, he wanted to hear her tell him he was her good boy all day.

She directed him up onto the desk and he leaned back, allowing her to draw the aneros out so slowly and push it back inside.

But she won’t get on her knees. She’s too proud even for his asking and begging. She reminds him that she’s not a slut whenever she pushes him back onto the bed and straddles him.

But now? Taking a breath - to steel herself, most likely - she leaned in and licked him, root to tip, and he sucks in a shaky gasp, fingers carding through her hair. The tip was engulfed in her mouth and he groaned, remembering to keep still. It’s been so long since anyone’s done this for him and it’s hard, but an angry Varvara is a hitting and biting Varvara, and if she can bite down to bone, what’s to stop her from employing her teeth in a member without a bone? There were few things he truly feared and the might of the Russian Motherland crushing him had to be in the top five.

Hand trembling, he closed his eyes and tilts his head back, wrapped up in the sensations. It’s almost too late when he remembered, but he does push her head back in wordless warning. She doesn’t move and stubbornly keeps going until he’s done, making a face at the taste and he collapses onto the floor while she moves down to sit with him, stroking his hair as he got his breath back, shaking hard against her as she idly stroked and kissed his body.

“Here, you still have it in you,” she murmured as he rocked back and jolted from the over-stimulation, and she carefully pulled it out, making sure not to hurt him. “Do you need something to drink?”

A few pulled out hairs were brushed off his shoulders and she waited for his answer, frowning when he shook his head.

“I’m tired. I’m sorry, I just want sleep.”

“Shh, it’s okay dear. Let’s get you to bed and I’ll make you breakfast.”

Her robe was left on the edge of the bed and she tucked him in and untucked him when she brought out a damp cloth, taking care to clean him up as gently as she could.

“Good night, dearest,” she crooned, petting his neck and shoulders as he drifted in and out of sleep. “Sleep as long as you want, okay? I’ll clean up as soon as you’re out.”


End file.
